Blood and a goofy grin
by I'mgoingtoHogwarts
Summary: The war is here. The pain is here. When the wall falls down everything seems to be lost, until a little hope is lit inside him. George/Hermione


**The war is here. The pain is here. When the wall falls down everything seems to be lost, until a little hope is lit inside him. George/Hermione**

**Sadly, I do not own anything of Harry Potter.**

**Blood and a goofy grin**

Hermione was tired. She was scared. Her whole body hurt, and she hated everything that was happening.

"You actually are joking, Perce…" Hermione turned to where the familiar voice was talking. "I don't think I've heard you joke since-" A spell was shot, an explosion, and then a loud, terrible cry was heard. Hermione scrambled to her feet. Through all the dust and fighting she saw George drop to his knees beside his brother.

Hermione ran over to him, and fell down beside him. She quickly felt for a pulse, but there was none. Blood was trickled out from the back of his head. He had the ghost of a smile plastered on his face. Fred was dead. Georges cry was like splinters of ice cold knives digging into her.

Hermione tried to get George away, it wasn't safe. He cast a quick glance at her, but didn't pay any notice to her. Then he froze, and slowly looked back at her. Hermione guess he had felt the same as she had, a surprising feeling of comfort and of security.

George stared straight at Hermione and in that second Hermione felt an overwhelming calm rush through her.

The time was going in slow motion, and it seemed like everything else was gone. The flashing lights shooting besides them were gone. All she could hear was the sound of George's quick breathing, and the beating of her heart. The screams, all the cruelty and all the pain, it was gone. All there were was him, George, together with Hermione. His deep blue eyes were holding her gaze.

Hermione stared at his perfectly shaped face. She stared at his pretty nose, and his nice, soft lips. His untidy hair, just looking at him made her feel like she was flying. Her eyes wandered down to where his left ear would have been, and to where his right was. Hermione looked at his cheek, which had far too many scars and bruises. She looked back into his gaze, his eyes never leaving hers. They were to young persons, who had experienced far too much pain than anyone would have ever deserved. It could be seen in their eyes.

George lifted a bloodstained hand which followed her hair down the left side of her face. "Hermione," he whispered hoarsely, his lips slowly forming into a goofy grin.

Oh, how she had missed that smile. Hermione missed everything that had been before. Laughter. Smiles. The memories of her at the Burrow flowed through her mind. Pictures of gatherings of all the Weasleys at dinner were shown clearly in her thoughts. Fred and Georges jokes and mischievousness.

But now there was only sadness. There was sadness, blood and a goofy grin, a goofy grin that was like a little candy of hope. "Hermione…" he whispered clearer, his voice stronger.

As suddenly as the calm, beautiful atmosphere had come over them, it fled from their minds, leaving them in the cold, evil war that was going on around them. The sounds that met them were awful screams containing fear and terror. Both Hermione, and George got ripped out of the security they had felt with each other, and both turned to the body lying beside them. The sorrow, the pain, the fear, unsecure feeling, everything came back to them. Reality came back to them.

Fred's body, George's dead twin was lying beside them, and they could do nothing. George bent down again and grieved beside his twin. He stroke his hair, his face, he pleaded, but nothing could be changed.

Hermione stroke his back wondering what he felt, as she felt devastated just by looking at him, but she guessed she didn't want to know.

Then, it happened. In a split second George looked up at Hermione with a tearful face. In a split second it could be heard a spell being thrown from a cloaked and masked death eater. In a split second that felt like years, a green light hit Hermione straight in her chest, and she fell backwards onto the ground and saw no more, leaving George alone. It was leaving George alone, staring at her, staring, but still he couldn't understand the madness that was happening in front of his eyes.

George's already broken heart, split soul, and scarred memory felt himself break even more. He felt himself die inside. The little candle of hope that had been lit in him was taken away, it had fooled him. There was no hope.

This was war. They had won. George had lost everything.

_A/N: I tried for this to be a tragedy. Did it work? Please review and tell me how you felt while reading this, and if you think the story was good. Thanks!_


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